


Even Autumn, Even Winter, Even Spring

by PKSamurai



Category: Natsume Yuujinchou | Natsume's Book of Friends
Genre: Future Fic, Gen, Natori is retired, Natsume Yuujinchou Secret Santa 2019, Natsume is a social worker, Slice of Life, and natori worrying over natsume... though it mostly turned out the other way, prompts were natsume's daily life as an adult
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-25
Updated: 2019-12-25
Packaged: 2021-02-26 06:55:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,479
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21959209
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PKSamurai/pseuds/PKSamurai
Summary: Ten years later, Natsume is still trying his best to do good in the world. As for Natori - well, he's there for the ride.
Relationships: Natori Shuuichi & Natsume Takashi
Comments: 8
Kudos: 108





	Even Autumn, Even Winter, Even Spring

**Author's Note:**

> This is for my giftee, morning-thunderstorm @ tumblr, for the Natsume Yuujinchou 2019 Secret Santa exchange. I hope you like it!
> 
> Some things to know before you start reading:  
> Natsume and Natori live together in the city.  
> Natsume works as a social worker, Natori retired from acting and is now an author (of course, best-selling).  
> Natsume returned all the names in the Book of Friends at some point, and Nyanko-sensei no longer travels with him.

冬枯れや   
_Winter solitude —_

世は一色に   
_In a world of one color_

風の音  
 _The sound of wind._

Letting the pages of Basho’s haiku collection rest on his chest, Shuichi slumps across the _kotatsu_. Closing his eyes, the morning chill fresh on his cheeks, he thinks blearily of the day that looms ahead: A meeting with his editor, followed by a book signing event for his fans, and then a blind dinner date set up by his manager. Then again, Shuichi is no stranger to a busy schedule, and when he thinks back on how his average day used to look back in his peak days as an actor, he can’t really complain. 

“Uwah, it’s cold…!” exclaims a voice. “Oh, it’s snowing!”

Shuichi opens his eyes to see Natsume, who’s already dressed up to go to work. “It’s nice and cozy in here. You’re welcome to join.” 

“Thank you, but I’m in a bit of a rush, actually,” comes the response. “We’re handling a special case today. Have a good day!”

With that, Natsume’s flying out the door, inviting in another brisk breeze before the door thuds shut. Shuichi leans back just enough to look out the window, and a few moments later, catches sight of Natsume running down the sidewalk. It’s starting to look slippery, so he’s about to call out a warning when Natsume suddenly veers to the side. 

Immediately, Shuichi launches up from where he's sitting, and a hand is already reaching for the speed dial on his phone before he realizes that Natsume isn't, in fact, about to fall and crack his head open. Instead, Natsume waves at a shadow in the otherwise empty air around him, and appears to engage in a quick dialogue with a concrete wall. Shuichi's voice dies in his throat and he sits back down, watching Natsume disappear around the bend.

 _Some things don't change,_ Shuichi thinks to himself, a small smile quirking his lips. Turning back to the _kotatsu_ , he pours himself some tea and as he lets the mug warm his hands, he thinks about the eyeglasses he left on his bedside table.

It's been three years since the newt tattoo disappeared from his body, and one year since he's started having trouble seeing _ayakashi._

* * *

Takashi regards the apartment complex with a contemplative gaze; it’s not particularly well-off, with worn side rails, and the chatter of foreign languages on the floor above. It reminds him of one of the places he used to stay at, back when he was still moving from relative to relative. Still, taking in the well-tended flowerbeds and the clean family name plate at the door, Takashi presses the doorbell.

Several moments later, the door cracks open to reveal a tired-looking housewife whose eyes nonetheless brighten at the sight of Takashi’s work uniform. “You must be the social worker from the agency! I got a phone call last night.”

He raises the lanyard holding his ID. “Yes, I’m Natsume Takashi. Thank you for having me here.”

“Oh, no, thank you for coming…” The housewife steps back, opening the door fully. “Please, come in.”

The apartment is small but comfortable, and well lived-in. Framed photographs of family members hang on the walls, and a _butsudan_ sits in the corner. The smell of curry wafts in from the kitchen, and Takashi smiles, reminded of Touko’s cooking.

“You have a lovely home, Morishita-san.”

The housewife smiles back, obviously tired but still proud of her home. But just as quickly as it appeared, it fades when they stop in front of a door. A sign hangs on the front: _No Entry._

“Nori,” the housewife calls out softly. “There’s someone here who wants to talk with you. The one I told you about yesterday. Remember?”

No response is forthcoming, and the housewife’s shoulders slump, as though she doesn’t know why she expected anything better. She turns to Takashi with a defeated expression, but before she can say anything, he places a hand on the door.

“Hi - Nori-kun? Can I call you that?” There’s no response, so he continues talking. “I’m Natsume Takashi. I’m a social worker, and I’m here to talk with you about what’s been happening to you.”

Morishita Noriaki. 14 years old, male, and a third year junior high school student who hasn’t left his room for the past three months — a _hikikomori_. And not just any _hikikomori_. There’s a reason why Takashi, personally, asked to take on this case.

“Can you tell me? About the things you’ve been seeing?”

Silence. But Takashi sees a shadow appear at the crack where the door meets the floor, and he can tell the boy is standing just inside. Takashi turns to the housewife, and nods at her kindly. She hesitates.

“Nori, I’m going to be in the kitchen. If you need anything, just knock on your door as usual, okay?”

Then she leaves, and Takashi stands alone in front of the door. Lowering his voice, he says, “I know that you can see and hear things that no one else can. That sometimes, you get hurt for seemingly no reason, and weird things happen around you. I don’t know about the others, but I want you to know that I believe you. Because I can see them too.”

A minute passes. And then another.

Then, the door cracks open to reveal a young boy whose features bear a striking resemblance to the housewife’s.

The first thing Takashi notices is that the room inside is reasonably neat and clean. The boy could be cleaning on his own, but it has a mother’s touch to it. The second thing he notices is the sheer quantity of books lining the shelves: There are some manga, but they’re mostly novels. Takashi thinks he even sees some of Natori’s books.

The boy — no, Nori, he reminds himself — regards Takashi warily with undisguised suspicion, and Takashi doesn’t blame him. He’s just relieved that Nori has let him inside the room at all; relieved that he’s made it in time.

“Can you tell me what’s going on?” asks Takashi.

Slowly, hesitantly, the story comes out — and as Takashi suspected, it’s quite different from what he read in the case file. 

While Nori’s spiritual power isn’t nearly as potent as Takashi’s was at his age, he has been able to see shadows from a young age. Though his parents took him to see countless doctors, it wasn’t until they took him to see a monk that anything seemed to work. The monk gave Nori a talisman to carry on his person at all times, and following that, Nori was able to continue his normal life.

That was until four months ago, when something shattered Nori’s talisman while he was at school. From there on out, Nori had been plagued by the shadows, and with accidents following him around one after another, he could no longer bear being in public. He had been holed up in his room ever since.

The whole time that Nori is talking, Takashi can’t help but notice the way his eyes keep flickering to Takashi’s expression, as though waiting for a certain reaction. He can guess what he's searching for: Bemusement - disbelief - frustration - even fear. Takashi knows what that’s like, to be _different_ in a way that he can't change about himself, and he feels his heart going out for him.

What catches Takashi’s attention most about the story is the fact that Nori’s talisman suddenly shattered at his school. 

“Did you notice anything afterwards?” Takashi probes gently. “A presence, perhaps?”

Nori looks taken aback; it’s unclear whether it’s because nobody’s ever pressed him for more details, or because he’d never thought about it. A thoughtful look comes over Nori’s face, and he replies, “I… yes. Sometimes, even before the talisman shattered, I’d hear someone playing the flute. But nobody else could ever hear it.”

* * *

The book signing is a moderate success, and Shuichi finds himself leaving the bookstore in high spirits when he catches sight of a familiar fair-headed figure making his way across the street.

Shuichi is about to call out a greeting, when he realizes that he’s still not wearing his eyeglasses. He’s already opening his mouth to ask his manager if she knows where they are, but then he feels it — right in the breast pocket of his shirt. Only once the frames are perched on his face, and he ascertains that Natsume is truly alone, does he run forward to catch him.

“Natori-san? What’re you doing here?” Natsume blinks in confusion, and Shuichi isn’t surprised — if a little heartbroken — that Natsume hadn’t come out here for him.

“Just out on some business,” he says, trying his best to discreetly wave his manager away. “What about you?”

“Likewise,” Natsume says mysteriously. “Well, I’ll see you at home later tonight then.”

The words send a jolt through Shuichi; he still finds himself surprised that Natsume actually took him up on his offer to live together. It had randomly come up in conversation that Natsume was looking for a place to stay in the city, and Shuichi had mentioned that he had a spare room in his apartment. Then before he knew it, Shuichi was waking up to the alien sight of Natsume cooking breakfast in the kitchen.

Sometimes, he thinks about the time they visited the _onsen_ together all those years ago, where he first invited Natsume to live with him if he ever grew tired of lying. Only, knowing what he knows now about Natsume’s foster parents, the memory makes him blush.

“Actually...” Natsume suddenly turns around, his expression hesitant. “Natori-san, how much do you know about talismans?”

Shuichi raises an intrigued eyebrow. “Does this have something to do with the special case you mentioned this morning?” he ventures a guess.

“Yes... it does,” Natsume admits.

Leading the way, Natsume fills Shuichi in on the details, and it’s all he can do to hold back his tongue. It’s so like Natsume to throw himself headfirst into something like this, possible consequences be damned, and by this point, Shuichi’s realized that nothing he says will change that part about him.

They soon reach the front gates of a junior high school, and Natsume is the one to approach the security guard. “Hello, I’m Natsume, a social worker working with one of the students at this school… I talked with the faculty earlier today about visiting, if you want to confirm.” 

A short phone call later, the two of them are waved inside.

The sun is setting, and classes are over for the day. It’s stopped snowing at some point, and the ground is covered with hundreds of footprints. The fencing of a baseball field rises in the distance. Several students are still milling around, likely for club activities, and Shuichi can feel curious glances in their direction.

Inside the main building, taking in the rows of shoe cubicles, Shuichi remarks, “It’s been a while since I was at a school. It sure takes me back.”

Natsume looks around, an almost wistful look on his face. “I miss it, sometimes. Do you?”

“Not in particular,” Shuichi replies.

Despite his joking tone, Natsume looks a little taken aback by that, and Shuichi feels a small prickle of guilt.

Suddenly, Natsume stops in his tracks. "Do you hear that?"

Shuichi stops and strains his ears. After a few moments, he thinks he can hear something muted in the distance. "A… flute?"

Judging from the hollow, mournful sound, it’s a traditional flute, and the two of them quicken their pace, following the source. It takes them deeper inside the school, and as the sound grows louder, the notes pick up in tempo, beating faster and faster with every step that they take. Finally, they come to a stop outside of what looks like the science laboratory room, and the music fades away.

In the silence that follows, the two exchange a look. Shuichi prepares a paper _shikigami_ , and Natsume slides the door open.

There’s a lone girl standing amidst the tables, holding a flute in her hands. She seems like an ordinary schoolgirl, albeit with ghostly pale skin and in a different uniform from the others Shuichi had seen outside, that it’s hard to believe she’s anything but human. Then Shuichi looks at her again over the frame of his glasses, and her outline starts to blur. 

“Hm? Can you two see me?” The yokai seems genuinely surprised, even pleased. “It’s been so long since anyone could. So very long. Are you both here to listen to me play?”

Her voice is innocent, even a little mournful, rather like the sound of the instrument that she plays. Still, Shuichi’s years of experience as an exorcist warn him not to be taken under her spell; that _ayakashi_ , by definition, are deceitful beings. If it were up to him, he'd break out more of his _shikigami_ and exorcise the yokai on the spot.

But of course, Natsume is different from Shuichi. He's always been different.

“Yes,” he replies, his voice clear and firm. “If that’s what you want. But before that, I want to ask… Were you the one who broke Nori’s talisman?”

“Nori?” The yokai looks thoughtful. “Oh! Is that the name of the human child who used to read in here sometimes? I haven’t seen him around for a while. I thought he could hear my flute playing, though he couldn’t see me. He used to look so lonely, I would play for him. I wonder if that’s why his talisman broke?”

She raises the flute to her lips, and she begins to play again. It’s a song that Shuichi’s never heard before — the notes are warm and pleasant, a tune without any complexity. It’s a tune that seems both otherworldly and yet right at home in a lonely school laboratory with clinical benchtops and metal stools. Shuichi listens to it and thinks about his _shiki_ that he dismissed once he retired as an exorcist. He wonders if they’re wreaking havoc now that they’re free, and whether anyone has tried to exorcise them.

When the last notes fade, Natsume asks in a gentle voice, “Do you have anywhere to go besides here?”

The yokai inclines her head. “I was only here because I thought there was someone here who could listen to me playing. But it seems that I was doing more harm than good to the human child. In that case, I can simply find somewhere else to go.”

“I’m sorry,” says Natsume, and Shuichi can tell he really is sorry. “But if you want, you are always welcome to play for us.”

As the yokai bows to them, her form is enveloped in a light. “You are very kind for a human,” she says, and somehow, it doesn’t sound entirely like a compliment. 

Then, she’s gone.

Shuichi looks around to make sure that they’re alone, and only then does he lower the paper _shikigami_. “Mark my words,” he says. “She’s going to wake you up in your sleep some day with her playing.” He’s only half joking — yokai have never had much sense when it comes to what they call 'human rituals.'

“Wake _us_ up, you mean,” Natsume replies, and Shuichi blinks.

“Ah… I guess you’re right.”

* * *

With Natori’s help, Takashi is able to make a new talisman for Nori to carry around on his person. And when Takashi moves aside to let Natori come in and introduce himself, the overwhelmed boy looks on the verge of tears.

As Natori autographs his novels with a flourish for Nori, he says, “I heard you were having a hard time making friends at your school.” Still starstruck, Nori nods mutely. “Well, I didn’t have many friends growing up, either. And look where I am now.” Natori flashes a shameless smile at the boy, one reminiscent of his younger days as an actor.

“Natori-san, what’re you saying…” Takashi admonishes, but without any bite to it. 

“The talisman we’re giving you — it won’t last forever. It’ll break again one day, and you might start seeing and hearing things again.” Lowering his pen, Natori pats Nori’s head. “But you see now, right? You’re not alone.”

With that, tears finally start streaming down Nori's cheeks, and he nods slowly. “...Thank you.”

When it's time for them to leave, Nori’s mother thanks them profusely, even pushing a carton of her curry onto them because, in her words, they look “entirely too thin to survive the winter.”

While Natori goes ahead to flag down a taxi, Takashi looks back at the apartment building one last time, and his heart is so big and tight in his chest, it feels like it’s catching in his throat. There will be hard times ahead for Nori, no doubt. But he has a family that clearly loves him and watches over him, and for that, Takashi is so, so grateful.

After that, the days pass in a blur. Takashi’s department is in an end-of-year push to finish their work, and more times than not, Takashi finds himself waking up at his office desk. But the curry that Nori’s mother packed for them comes in handy, and the rich taste of it gives him the strength to push through. Then, before he knows it, it’s the end of the year. 

Tired, but flush with the success of finishing his work, Takashi starts packing to go home. The last time he was able to visit his parents was during _Obon_ , and that was back in the summer. They talk on the phone at least once a week, and are nothing but supportive of his work, but Takashi feels wracked with guilt every time he thinks about them, so he always packs them plenty of souvenirs. On top of that, this will be an extra special year, since Tanuma and all the others will be back for the holidays as well, and by the time he’s done packing, his suitcase looks about the same size as a well-fed child.

Natori comes home in the middle of it all, and follows his usual routine of preparing tea, staring out the window, and writing poetry — all necessary for his lyricism, he maintains — before tucking himself under the _kotatsu_ and silently observing Takashi.

After a couple minutes of this, Takashi stops. “Is there something you want to say, Natori-san?”

“Not at all,” Natori replies with a predator-like smile. “Why, am I making you uncomfortable?”

Takashi grimaces. “A little, yes.”

“Oh, I see.” Natori sips at his tea.

“On that note… If you don't have any other plans for the holidays, Touko-san wanted me to ask if you wanted to visit as well, this year.” Takashi pauses, feeling the tips of his ears begin to burn red. “As thanks for letting me stay here,” he adds, to clear up any possible misunderstandings.

“That sounds delightful,” says Natori without any hesitation. “I think I will. After all, who knows what trouble you could get into down there?”

“Nyanko-sensei still comes around for dinner there,” Takashi counters.

“Hmm.” Natori motions towards Takashi. “Come on in here. It’s nice and warm.”

So Takashi joins him under the _kotatsu_ , and they sit there, peeling _mikan_ and watching the outdoor scenery through the window. Snow drifts slowly down from the sky, covering everything in white. And somewhere, in the distance, if he strains his ears, he thinks he can hear a flute playing. 

Takashi glances over at Natori, who isn’t wearing his glasses, and he gets the feeling that the older man can’t hear the tune.

While Natori hasn’t said anything to him yet, Takashi knows that Natori is having a harder time seeing yokai these days. He remembers a time, years ago, when he briefly couldn’t see yokai anymore, and he wonders how Natori feels about the situation. They've known each other for a long time now, but sometimes when Takashi looks at Natori, he can't help but feel like there's so much he doesn't know about the older man.

He hopes Natori will open up to him soon.

He hopes the yokai with the flute has found another place to stay.

He hopes that Nori will be able to make friends.

He hopes that his parents will continue to stay healthy.

With every day that passes, his worries and hopes continue to stack on top of each other, and sometimes, Takashi feels like he can't see an end in sight.

But still...

Right now, they’re sitting in the warmth of a _kotatsu_ , the smell of _mikan_ staining their fingers. The next day, they’ll be taking the bullet train to see his family and friends, and the joy welling up inside Takashi at the thought of it makes his heart ache.

“What a beautiful winter day,” says Natori, his reflection in the window smiling.

“Yes,” Takashi agrees. “It is.”

**Author's Note:**

> I don't really know how home visits from social workers go - sorry for any inaccuracies.
> 
> Merry Christmas everyone!


End file.
